


Relief for a Lonely Heart

by thekingslover



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Meet-Cute, Poet Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, fan nicky, lonely nicky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingslover/pseuds/thekingslover
Summary: Nicky takes the train to work every morning. He sits in the window seat and stares out at the passing trees and buildings and life outside. He goes to work, he goes home, he goes to sleep. Everyday, the same routine.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 37
Kudos: 469





	Relief for a Lonely Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my nickyjoe tumblr sideblog, monicashipsnickyjoe. My main blog is thekingslover.

Nicky takes the train to work every morning. He sits in the window seat and stares out at the passing trees and buildings and life outside. He goes to work, he goes home, he goes to sleep. Everyday, the same routine.

He doesn’t smile much anymore. Or talk, except when his bosses ask him questions. He watches the news on low every night and falls asleep on the couch to the sound of late night talk show hosts sharing laughs with their guests.

The view through the train window starts to make him sad, so he brings books to read instead.

One day, he finishes a book of fiction on the way to work, so he stops by the nearby bookstore on his lunch hour to pick up something for the ride home. He stares at the stacked bookcases labeled fiction, unsure where even to begin, when one of the employees directs him toward a different shelf, this one reading _local authors._ Nicky’s so surprised to be talked to that he follows the employee without question. He decides to buy the first book she puts in his hands.

It’s poetry. He almost puts it back but the title stops him.

_Relief for a Lonely Heart by Yusuf al-Kaysani_

He buys the book. He reads it, and falls in love.

In the following weeks, he buys all of al-Kaysani’s collection. His copies become well-worn and well-loved. He takes them on the train with him often, whenever he feels sad, and they help. These words, so close to the longing of his own heart, ease his loneliness in a way he never thought possible.

He’s nose deep in his favorite poem one morning, so lost among the pages that he misses when someone speaks to him, until they do so again.

It’s a man across the aisle, leaning over it, pointing. “Do you like that book?” He has soft brown eyes and a head of curls, with a full beard. He’s wearing a suit, sans tie, with the top top buttons open. He’s movie star handsome, and Nicky, though he heard him this time, has to make sure.

“Pardon?”

“That book you are reading,” the man says. “Do you like it?”

“It’s my favorite,” Nicky tells him. It’s different to talk to a stranger, but when lines crinkle beside the man’s eyes when he smiles, Nicky can’t help but be charmed.

“I like it, too,” the man says. “You know he’s a local author?”

“I do.”

“Have you ever met him?”

“No.”

“Would you like to?” the man asks.

Nicky lowers the book. “You know Mr. al-Kaysani?”

The man’s smile grows impossible wider. Nicky’s certain they could use that smile to power the train. “Call me Joe.”

“I’m Nicky.”

Joe holds his hand out across the aisle. Nicky reaches and takes it. The handshake is firm. Joe doesn’t let go right away, so Nicky doesn’t either. He can’t remember the last time he’s had eye contact this long.

The thought startles and embarrasses Nicky, so he glances down and withdraws his hand. “You were saying you knew Mr. al-Kaysani?”

“Um,” Joe says. “Yes, that’s true.” He motions to the open seat beside Nicky. “Do you mind if I join you there? I feel very far.”

“Of course,” Nicky says and moves his bag to the floor to give Joe room.

“Thank you.” Joe rises and crosses the aisle. He sits to Nicky’s right, so close their elbows brush on the armrest. Nicky thinks to move, but doesn’t. Joe leans closer, lining their arms from elbow to shoulder. He’s so warm and solid, and this close, Nicky can see the kindness in those eyes and the freckles on his nose.

“Breathtaking,” Joe says, stealing the word straight from Nicky’s thoughts, but he’s looking at Nicky. He means it for Nicky.

Joe clears his throat. “Tell me your favorite poem.”

“Only if you tell me yours after,” Nicky says.

Joe nods. “Of course.”

Nicky still has his thumb in the page. He lifts the book and shows Joe. It’s a melancholy poem that compares loneliness to sitting on the side of the road, watching the cars go by. You can see the people but they move too fast. If they see you, they are gone before they can speak. It’s a poem that whispers to Nicky’s very bones, though admittedly less so, since Joe sat beside him.

“This is your favorite?” Joe says. “Not one of his love poems?”

“The love poems are wonderful,” Nicky tells him, “But…” He doesn’t know how much to share with this stranger, not wanting to offend him.

“Go on,” Joe says. “I’m so curious to know your thoughts.”

“They don’t feel as genuine,” Nicky says. “I believe Mr. al-Kaysani loves the idea of love, but I’m unsure if… Well. Or perhaps the fault lies with me.”

His elbow still on the armrest, Joe lifts his hand and drops his chin into his palm. He’s even closer now, watching Nicky with a curious expression. He doesn’t seem offended, more intrigued, and the look gives Nicky the courage to continue.

“I’ve never been in love. Not really. I thought I was at the time, of course, but… in hindsight.” Nicky shakes his head. “No, the poems of loss and longing, they feel more real. The love poems are told from a distance. These here…” Nicky points to the poem on the next page, the one that longs for a home that either no longer exists or never existed. “These strike the soul.”

Joe’s smile is soft. His eyes are warm and welcoming.

“It’s your turn,” Nicky says with a shy smile of his own.

“Ah.” Joe lifts his head from his hand and lets his hand drop. He straightens against the seat, and Nicky instantly regrets the distance he’s placed between them.

“Joe, you don’t have to -”

“My favorite is the one I’m writing right now,” Joe says.

Nicky snaps his mouth closed.

“Your eyes are a most unusual color. Difficult to put into words,” Joe says. He taps a finger to his cheek, just above the edge of his beard. “I wonder if I’ll struggle forever.”

“You…”

“Forgive me for not telling you,” Joe tilts his head down, and looks up at Nicky through his eyelashes. Nicky knows he would forgive this man anything, with that look. “I was about to, but then… Well, it was so refreshing to know what you think.”

Oh, God. Mortification rushes through Nicky’s blood hot and fast. “Joe, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“No, no.” Joe places his hand on Nicky’s arm on the armrest, just above his elbow. “Don’t misunderstand. You are right.” He looks away a moment. “My publishers insist I write the love poems. They sell. I do love love, as you said, but you are also correct that I… I have struggled to find the other half of my heart.”

“I’m sorry,” Nicky says, though he’s no longer sure what he’s apologizing for.

“Nicky.” Joe glances back to him, and Nicky couldn’t look away if the train derailed. It already did, for all he knows. “You see the longing.”

“I share it,” Nicky says.

Joe nods. “What if… That is… Perhaps…”

Nicky surprises himself, with a small laugh.

Joe’s eyes widen. His mouth falls open. Nicky would be embarrassed but Joe’s expression is one of wonderment, not humor. Nicky wants to give him more.

“You are a master wordsmith, Yusuf al-Kaysani,” Nicky says, amazed by his own boldness. He has been alone for far too long. With Joe, he feels as if he is finding himself again. “What could possibly have rendered you speechless?”

“You,” Joe says.

Warmth takes root in Nicky’s heart and blossoms outwards until he is nearly set ablaze.

“Have dinner with me,” Joe says.

“Yes.” Nicky lowers his hand to find and connect with Joe’s. “No more lonely poems.”

Joe smiles wide. “The next love poem I write will be genuine,” he says, “Because, Nicky, it will be for you.”

A year later, Joe gifts Nicky an entire book of poems. Nicky, in return, gifts Joe a ring.

“A lifetime of poetry,” Joe offers.

Nicky kisses him and corrects, “A lifetime of love.”

“My heart,” Joe laughs against Nicky’s cheek. “Ever since I met you, those have been one and the same.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
